Branded
by lostinausten92
Summary: At the time of the outbreak, Heather McBride is a 24 year old actress; making her way up in Atlanta, Georgia. All good things must come to an end though. After a month of lonely travels, she finds a group in Atlanta that reluctantly agrees to take her in. Mostly follows the show, comics loosely. Daryl/OC, THERE IS SMUT!
1. Chapter 1

FIRST PERSON POINT OF VIEW:

**-Flashback-**

_"Mom? Logan? Come down here, I have something to show you!"_

_My family had been struggling with the bills for Logan's therapist and recent stay in the hospital after Logan tried to take his own life._

_"We're up here, honey. Quiet, he's sleeping. First time all day," my mother whispered hoarsely down the stairs._

_I tiptoed up the stairs as quietly as I could, painfully aware of Logan's current state._

_"Hi mom," I said quietly and kissed Mom on the forehead, receiving only an empty look from solemn eyes. I handed her the envelope, and watched in anticipation as she tore it open._

_Then she saw it; what I had been waiting for._

_"But how, Heather? How did you manage this?" And I saw briefly the once so familiar gleam in my mom's eyes._

_"A commercial for a skin toner and a photo spread with a company out of New York. We're going to get there, mom, I hope you never thought I wasn't going to do what I can to help."_

_"Baby," Mother said quietly, happily, putting a hand to her mouth in disbelief._

_"Love you," I said, with a grin and quick hug._

_"He's not good, Heather." The attention panned back to Logan._

_"I know," I replied simply, tugging on a lock of my platinum hair._

_At that moment, Logan began to seize: twisting and flailing his arms around, his back spasming and contorting violently._

_"Oh my god, mom what do I do?" I screamed, and wiped away the tears that stung my eyes._

_"Call 911! He's bleeding out through the bandages," My mother tried to hold his wrists down to ease the loss of blood._

_I dialed 911 shakily, and listened as an automated voice blared through the other line._

_"Stay calm. Stay away from the infected. Help is on its way."_

_On repeat._

_Mom wailed from over Logan as I came to the realization that it was too late. The blood from Logan's wrists ran bright red, pooling on the crisp white sheets, and his eyes rolled back into his head, choking on a last violent seizure._

_"No one's answering mom, it's just a recording. No one. It says to stay calm, and stay away from the infected...what do they mean?" a feeling of dread set in._

_I abandoned my questioning when my mother did not answer. We stood together over Logan's seemingly sleeping body; but there was no rise and fall of his chest, no peaceful fluttering of his eyelids. He was gone, and there was nothing else that could be done._

_Suddenly, Logan's eyes flew open and he drew in a raspy, distorted breath._

_"Logan, honey?" My mother asked, placing pressure on the wrists once again._

_Then I heard it. Distinctly, but so faintly at first: Logan began to growl. His mouth, bloodied from biting his own tongue during the seizures, opened slightly, showing that his gums had blackened. His eyes squinted up at his mother, and Heather saw them: swollen and jaundiced, with rings of red around the iris._

_It all happened too fast for me to understand. He sat up with such force that his mother would have flown to the ground, yet he grabbed her wrists and pulled her towards him._

_"Oh sweety," I heard my mother whisper, and she reached to put an arm around her son. That's when I heard it. The sound of flesh tearing, and the piercing scream of Mom as Logan sunk his teeth into her neck. Arterial spray hit the walls of the otherwise white room, and she gurgled for breath, gasping and crying._

_**Logan was eating her.**_

_I rushed forward, not knowing exactly what to do, but I pulled my mother away, still breathing but barely. Logan's other worldly moans increased, and he stood up, following me, whose only protection now was my mother's dying body. I dragged her with some adrenaline induced strength, slammed the door to Logan's room, and toppled down the stairs,never letting go of Mom, through the front door and onto the front lawn._

_"Mom? Mom! Please no, please, I need you. Please don't leave me here," I sobbed into my bloodstained hands, gasping for air, and watching my mother do the same._

_"I love you so much, my girl," she said, each breath a struggle._

_"Please no. Don't go," My windpipe seemed to close as the sobs racked her body. "PLEASE!"_

_She was gone. Lifeless, pale green eyes staring at nothing._

_"Mom. Mom? No. This can't be happening. No!" I shook her shoulders and finally fell back in the grass. The mid morning heat was increasing by the second, and caused me to become sticky with sweat._

_I heard the door handle jiggling, and watched in horror as the walking corpse of Logan managed to yank open the door and drag his feet over the threshold._

_"No...oh my god, no!" I tried drag Mom's body, but the strength I had possessed before had dissipated into fear, and I ran; ran as fast as I could, and looked back only once, to see Logan feasting on their mother's body._

**-present day-**

I bit into an apple that I'd found on a recent raid in an elementary school on the outskirts of Atlanta. It had been 30 days since the infection hit, and I'd been on my own ever since. Two days in, I narrowly escaped an attack by locking myself in a Toyota Prius: to my amazement, the keys were still stuck in the slot on the dash.

"Thank god for this hybrid," I said, smiling at the first positive thing to happen in what felt like years, and I drove away as silently as could be, running over the stray bag of bones with a loud clunk. "Bastard," I said, and backed over him again for good measure.

I would go into Atlanta. For what, I didn't know. Supplies? Shelter? To end it all?

It was true, I _wanted_ to die, but for some reason, I pushed on, still unaware and numb to the whole situation. Only my instinctual need to survive remained.

Being on my own highlighted one thing: I am desperately alone, and while I was uncomfortable, there was a certain peace about finally hearing nothing but my own thoughts.

As I turned onto the abandoned junction into the city, I noticed a swarm of the undead feeding on something large that had gone down next to one of the army's tanks. I stopped the car, hoping that I hadn't been seen. Then I saw him; another person, alive and well...maybe not so well, but alive in the least. I would take alive any day over these freaks.

He looked like a small town sheriff, and my thoughts were confirmed when I saw a brown hat with the gold sheriffs badge pinned to the front laying on the ground by the swarm. He was trapped now, under the tank,and just when I was going to try to help him, static interference blare through the stereo and a man's voice made my ears pulsate and ring.

"Don't you dare get out of that car. You've got 20 geeks on your back. Drive as fast as you can down the alley to your left, the make a sharp right. Block that alley with the car and run. There's a gray metal door; someone will be waiting for you," the voice said.

_Deafening static._

**Chapter 2: Up on the Rooftop**

I heard the emergency broadcast system begin to repeat again and hit the power button with force, remembering the same voice the day I called 911 for Logan. Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I did as I was told and spun the wheel sharply to the left. The mysterious radio man was right; just as I hit the gas, a swarm that had broken off from the group by the tank piled onto the side of the car, actually managing to lift a tire from the ground.

_If the guy makes it out of the tank, he can thank me later._

I chuckled, despite the seriousness of the situation. I managed to peel the last few remaining bag of bones from the sides of the car as she spun out, leaving a cloud of smoke in my wake, and I grimaced as the blood and remains from whatever had gone down in the street smeared all over the side of the white car.

"Down the alley," I said aloud as I accelerated, hitting trash cans that stood in my way. As I glanced in the rear view mirror, I saw the undead making their way after me, slowly but surely.

"Sharp right...fast, fast,, fast!" I accelerated again, and slammed on the brakes when I came to the alley on my right hand side. I fumbled for the crow bar that had turned into my most valued possession, saying a quick prayer to whoever was listening. The white car blocked the way down the alley for now, I toppled over the console to the passenger's seat, and hurriedly fumbled with the door handle. With a stealthy look behind me, I noticed that only one bag of bones managed to get around the corner, and that one still had a block to go. I hopped out of the car, squeezed between the car door and the fence, and pushed through the gate in the fence that separated me from the gray metal door, just as described by the man on the radio.

The hair on the back of my neck began to prickle as I thought about her hastiness to obey this man._Was it a good idea? Was I being led into a trap?_ I rushed down the alley, eyes peeled, and saw with relief that the door began to open.

A black guy, bald and rough looking called out, "WALKER!," and pointed behind me.

I spun around in time to see that frail body of an older man, grayed hair on end and matted with his blood. His nose had begun to rot, and the rest of his face was skeletal and gaunt, teeth brown and full of meat and blood. The fear I felt every time I saw one of them up close would never go away. After a moment's hesitation and hearing the thing begin to hiss hungrily, I swung the crow bar and lodged an end right in his eye. The sickening squelch that followed, along with the rotting scent coming from his collapsed eye made me gag as the zombie fell to the ground, still twitching slightly. After regaining my composure, I ran to the door and pounded on it, not having to wait at all. The door swung open and the black guy wrapped his arm around me, pulling me to safety.

"T Dog," he said gruffly, and nodded to me.

"Heather," I said breathlessly, wiping my crow bar off on my pants. I saw a group of other survivors all sitting anxiously. I stopped to observe; something I did so well when I had once had people to look at.

The first person I noticed was a thin blonder girl, like me, but older, and lighter hair. She had icy blue eyes that looked me over coldly. _boo hiss._ I said in my own head, and could tell immediately I would not get along with this woman. I moved on with a subtle smile, trying to keep the peace. There was a hispanic man with curly black hair who smiled warmly, "Morales." He said with his smooth accent. Before I could finish introductions, we all jumped as we heard a gun fire out in the street.

"Oh yeah, there's a man out in the tank...he was alone, and the last I saw, he managed to climb inside the tank," I said, confused.

"Damnit!" A small Asian man ran past me and out into the alley without hesitation.

"Who the fuck fired a gun? Do they not get it?" Andrea sneered, pulling her own gun out.

"Put it _away_, Andrea," Morales said, rolling his eyes at the hypocritical move.

Not five minutes later, the Asian man returned, bursting through the door with the sheriff, actually looking rather unscathed, besides being drenched in sweat.

"Glenn. I just saved your ass. Yours too," He said to the sheriff and motioned to me as well.

"And I'm grateful. I'm Rick," the sheriff said, and it was then I heard the voice of a broken man.

"You stupid son of a bitch, I oughta kill you!" Andrea cried out, pointing her gun in Rick's face.

"Andrea, no!" the black woman who Heather hadn't met formally yet said, and begged Andrea to put it away.

"Are you kidding me? We're all dead because of this asshole. He just rang the dinner bell!" Andrea continued.

Let's check the damage," Glenn said, and ran into the back entrance of the department store they were hiding in. Everyone followed in suit, and I let out a muffled gasp as she saw hundreds of walkers pounding on the glass store front windows, snarling, slobbering and just waiting for their opportunity to break through. I immediately felt a wave of nausea.

"What the hell are we gonna do now?" Andrea yelled some more, and just then everybody heard a chorus of more gun shots coming from above.

"Dixon!" T Dog growled and headed off the chase to the roof.

"We'll stay here and try to plan a route out," Morales said, motioning to himself, Glenn and the black woman, who I had heard someone call Jacque.

I hung back with Rick briefly, only to introduce myself.

"I'm Heather," I said, shyly.

"Nice to meet ya. Let's keep up," he said, and placed a hand on the small of my back beckoning me to continue on up the stairs. I found myself slightly turned on from Rick's chaste touch. It had been so long.

Breathless, we all emerged on the rooftop to see a middle aged guy, buzzed gray hair and sallow, wasted eyes and a black leather vest holding up a shot gun and firing shots into the air.

I bent down to tie my shoe, in hopes of avoiding one of my all too common accidents, and lost myself in my own dark thoughts for a moment.

_What did I get myself into? It's better than being alone, I suppose._

_"..._I'll tell you the day, Mr. 'Yo', it's the day that I take orders from a nigger!"

Oh no.

T Dog went to hit Merle, but was knocked on his back with the butt of Merle's rifle.

"Stop!"

"Come on now," Rick yelled.

"Someone, make him stop!" Jacqui wailed.

Merle eased up, only after bloodying T Dog's face and stuck a handgun in his face.

"Anyone else?" Merle asked, grinning his awful grin.

Then there was more scuffling. Suddenly the blue sky began to swirl, mixing in with the clouds, making a beautiful tye dye pattern float before my eyes.

"Help," I whimpered helplessly and fell to the ground, hitting my head with a loud crack on a metal pipe.


	2. Chapter 2

I opened my eyes and winced; my head throbbed painfully and the sudden bright light burned my eyes. I was laying across the seat of a truck, and I looked around, shielding my eyes from the sun.

"You fell, on the roof top. Hit your head pretty good. When did you eat last?" Rick was driving, chewing on something, and offered me a granola bar.

"It's been...4 days, I think. I had a couple bites of an apple I found, but that's it..No thanks," I turned down the bar kindly, too nauseous to eat. "What happened back there?" I went on, confused about the present situation.

"It all went to shit when the redneck started firing those shots. Got into it bad with T Dog and that was when we lost you. I handcuffed Dixon to the pipe...I didn't have a choice, and we couldn't go back...T Dog dropped the key," Rick started to jumble all of his thoughts together.

My stomach sank at the last statement.

"Is he okay?" I asked Rick.

_He's a dumb bastard, but no one deserves to go like that._

"He was the last T Dog saw him; locked the door shut from the outside so the walkers couldn't get to him," Rick ran a hand down over his face, rubbing his tired eyes.

"That's awful," I said, and sat up slowly. I still hadn't gotten used to the whole apocalypse thing, and it didn't help that I had spent the last month alone. Like I said before, having my own time is great...but being used to people, I was grateful for any company, even that awful, greasy, trash talking skinhead, so she still couldn't fathom leaving someone who is still alive for dead.

"I know. I feel bad, believe me I do. I don't have a clue what to do," He said, dramatically.

I found myself reaching over and running my hand timidly down Rick's arm. He looked over, and it seemed like he was conflicted. He smiled lightly, foot faltering on the gas pedal.

**Rick's Point of View:**

_I want this. I really do._

He glanced over, taking in her fair, clear skin. He noticed her chest began to move more rapidly as he glanced at her full breasts.

_Did she want it too?_

He breathed shakily, and motioned for Heather to come closer.

She obliged and scooted across the seat, locking the small metal panel that opened to the back of the truck. They were following Glenn in a red sports car, the alarm blaring full blast.

_Okay, she does want it._

Rick gasped as she warily placed her hand on his thigh; something stirred within him that he hadn't felt in a long time...

Her expression lightened as she saw him look at her through gritted teeth, and she noticed his pupils dilated. Her hand traveled daintily up towards towards that place where his brown uniform pants stretched over his bulge, the zipper straining.

"Are you sure?" Rick sighed, getting the desire to wrap his hand up in her curly, dirty blonde hair and push her head to his lap.

_Lori never let me do that._

He closed his eyes and dismissed the thought of his wife; she was gone now, and he had to accept it and move on. Heather seemed nice enough...

**Heather's point of view:**

I loved his reaction; I hadn't had the chance to even touch myself in the last month, and as I felt Rick's hardness through his pants under her palm, my center twinged and I craved more.

He tangled his right hand in my hair, and I felt him pushing my head down. I slowly undid the brown belt and fumbled on the button briefly. The zipper went down easily on its own as Rick sprung free.

"You're not wearing underwear," I stated.

_Really Heather?_

Rick laughed; a genuine laugh.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have any. Sometimes, it just feels nice to hang free. Anyway, are you really bringing that up? You know what I want..you want it too," he stated, running his fingers through my tangled hair.

"God I've missed this," he continued and pushed my head down with force; I heard his breath hiss through his teeth as I laced my tongue laced up the bottom of his shaft, stopping briefly on the head; she paused, breathing rapidly, then took his length in**,** fighting the urge to gag; I had never had anyone this big. I felt him writhe beneath my grasp on his thigh, and couldn't help but smile.

"Oh girl," Rick said simply.

"Does that feel good?" I said, as I pumped faster on Rick; I didn't wait for a response and took him in again, speeding up. I felt him begin to swell and throb from my touch.

"Please don't stop," Rick begged, and he moaned as his climax began to build, starting in his chest, his heart pounding.

"You gonna come, Rick?" I asked. She realized how often she asked questions while pleasuring him.

_No, he was gonna go..._

"Oh my god..oh..my..god! I'm coming!" He grabbed my head once again, and he began to throb deep in my throat, followed by the hot spurts of his seed. I swallowed without question; I could tell Rick would like that.

"Christ," he said, amazed that he hadn't wrecked the truck, "Just in time, apparently," Glenn turned sharply onto a gravel road and Rick following, beginning the ascent up a windy road. Rick went to button up his pants.

"I've got it," I said, giggling as I wiped my mouth. I proceeded to wipe Rick off with my sleeve, and then buttoned and zippered his pants. I buckled his belt and sat up, looking at him. For some reason, I began to blush.

"Thank you," Rick said, taking my hand in his and kissing it.

"Such a gentleman," I joked, though I could tell her truly was a gentleman, and scooted back over to the passenger's side of the truck. I felt proud that I finally made a man feel good again, and I squirmed, my own desire hadn't been appeased.

"If this camp has privacy, I'll make you feel good tonight, sugar. You deserve it," Rick noticed my shifting.

Besides the fact that Rick was nice to look at, I could tell he had a heart of gold. Everything had happened so fast, and I realized that's why I was blushing. I always spent a lot of time getting to know men I was interested in, and I had only been in one relationship previously.

_Would this be a relationship? I don't want to seem greedy or pushy. Do I even want a relationship? Of course not. Who the hell has time for relationships nowadays? This was a one time thing._

My thoughts were interrupted as the truck came to a halt_._ I jumped as the back panel on the truck came up with a metallic clang, and I watched as the other survivors headed further up the road on foot. Glenn stood, partially in a panic. He couldn't get the alarm on the sports car turned off, and I saw a blonde girl heckling him about something, and another man yelling for him to pop the hood.

"How'd you get outta there anyway?" the man asked after the alarm had been shut off, his voice muffled by the closed windows in the truck.

"New guy," Morales said, "Hey, Helicopter Guy, come say hello!" He called out, waving for Rick to come over.

He took a deep breath and jumped out of the truck, beckoning me over with a wave of his hand and helping me to the ground. My head spun as the dizziness returned.

"You alright?" Rick asked me.

"Yeah, just need a drink I think," I smiled and brushed him off.

He turned to walk towards the group, and suddenly came to a halt, his breath catching audibly.

"Oh my god," he whispered.

There was a little boy standing with his mother and he ran towards Rick.

"Dad! Dad!" Rick picked him up and fell to his knees, cradling the boy in his arms. He got back to his feet and ran to the woman, wrapping him up in his arms. Tears flooded my eyes when the realization kicked in that this was Rick's family. I wasn't angry, or mad in the least…I realized that I was jealous. I would have given anything to have my mom and brother in my arms. I lifted a hand to my face, wiping the tears that gathered under my eyes.

In all of the confusion, I wasn't introduced; not that I minded really. My vision began to lapse again, and I fell to the ground, landing hard on my knees. I felt the warm bile creep up my throat as my stomach heaved the small amount of contents that it held; the tears burned and I continued dry heaving as I fell on the ground. My head throbbed where I had hit the pipe, and I reached up to feel the tender lump that had formed.

"Oh god, Heather!" Glenn noticed me first in the background, and he came to my side. "Shane, help me!" He beckoned the other man over and I felt myself lifted off the ground.

"She needs to eat. We found her in the city, same location as Rick," Shane only grunted as they took me inside of an old RV. After laying me out on the couch in the back, Shane rummaged and found a pack of crackers and a soda.

"Here, ya need to eat this," He said, and pushed the minimal food towards me. I obliged gladly, and ate hastily, hunger returning with a vengeance. I didn't stop until everything was gone.

"Now, get some rest. We gonna start supper and we'll feed ya more then," Shane smiled curtly and hopped out of the camper, heading back to join the others.

I felt myself drift into a rough sleep, my thoughts making me lapse back to the day I lost my family. It was still obviously a fresh wound and stung to the touch.

"Heather!" Rick whispered, shaking me by the shoulders. I woke to him standing above me with a paper plate of food and a tin mug of hot coffee.

"I'm so sorry about today. It shouldn't have happened that way," I said, embarrassed about what took place on the drive back from Atlanta.

"I do not regret that. I'm sorry if you do. Ya know we've gotta put it in the past, but I knew I liked you when we first met. I feel like I can trust you, and that's a hard thing to come by in the world we're livin' in now," He sat down next to me for a moment and handed me the food.

"Do you want to come out? They're havin' a camp fire," He asked, smiling slightly as I began shoveling the food into my mouth. Some sort of game meat, a yeasty biscuit and green beans; canned vegetables had never tasted so good.

"I'll stay put and be rested up for tomorrow. Thank you Rick, I appreciate it; everything," I replied, seriously considering the camp fire.

He took my free hand and squeezed it, planting a chaste kiss on my wrist, and headed back out to join the others.

I finished my food and stared out of the window at the mellow orange embers from the fire pit cast a soothing glow on the tents set up around camp. I began to cry again, thinking about my family. I wished I didn't know that they were dead. I wished to hold on to some hope that I'd find them, like Rick did, and be reunited. The perfect happy ending. But instead, there was nothing but the sense of complete sorrow, knowing that they had both changed. At the time, I didn't even think about killing them, even though they weren't really alive. Not anymore. But I didn't know, and now they walked among the hordes of others, perpetually roaming with no destination.

I fell asleep again, and this time was spared of the nightmares.

"Hey Merle! Get ya ugly ass out here. Got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up,"

"Hey Daryl, slow up a bit, I need to talk to you," Shane said

"Oh no," I said aloud, realizing that Shane and Rick were telling Merle's brother what had happened yesterday. I went to sit up, and my head pounded.

"Fuck!" I gasped, whimpering slightly, and clutched my temples.

"You want somethin' to eat?" A frail looking woman with short salt and peppered hair brought over yet another plate of food, leftovers from last night by its appearance. I could care less at this point, and I took the plate, smiling appreciatively at the woman. I gobbled the food down.

"I'm Carol, by the way," She had a sweet smile, but eyes that were glazed over and seemingly far away.

"Heather. Thanks for the food," I said, nodding approvingly as I took a sip of the instant coffee Carol had brought me.

We tuned in again to what was happening outside the RV.

"Hold on. Let me process this. You're sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you let him there?"

"Yeah," Rick said, simply. I heard scuffling and grunting as there was apparently a little struggle.

"I'd like to have a calm discussion about this," Rick said.

"It's not Rick's fault; I dropped the key," T Dog chimed in after bringing back a load of fire wood.

"If that's s'posed to make me feel better, it don't. Hell with alla y'all. Just tell me where he is so's I can go get him," the man named Daryl screamed, rubbing his eyes as if he was wiping away tears.

"I'm going back," Rick said, and that was when his wife turned and came in the RV.

"Oh, im sorry, I forgot you were in here," She said, and went to leave.

"You're fine. I'm sorry he's leaving again," I said, trying to be empathetic.

"You'd think finding his family'd be enough to keep him here. Typical Rick, always gotta be the hero. Enough of that though, I'm Lori," Lori said and gave a small smile.

"Heather," I said with a twinge of guilt. _and I sucked your husband off._ My thoughts got away from me, and I looked back outside to distract myself.

Daryl was not nearly what I expected. He was toned and tan, brown hair and over all, pretty attractive. His personality was repulsive and rude; it put me off immensely and I scoffed, thinking about what sort of _idiot_ would be with a man like Daryl Dixon.


	3. Chapter 3

I came out of the RV, shielding my eyes from the midday sunlight. I walked over to where everybody stood talking. Lori glared at Rick, hands on her hips, and reprimanding him for something.

"It's my fault he's there, Lori, and I'm not leavin' him to die. You know that's not how I am," I heard Rick say emphatically as I got closer. He was stubborn, like me.

"So you and Daryl? That's your big plan?" Lori said, and Rick looked to Glenn for back up.

"...Oh come on," Glenn said, sighing, exasperated.

"In and out, no problem, like you said. I know I shouldn't ask, but I'd feel better if you were with and so would she," he nodded to Lori.

"So now you're riskin' 3 men, huh?" Shane said, rubbing his right hand through his hair, the other hand placed precariously on the gun strapped to his belt.

"Four," T Dogg said, seeming almost proud.

"My day keeps gettin' better and better, don't it?" Daryl scoffed, still focusing on his arrows.

I didn't know people yet, so I looked around for something to keep me occupied without me seeming invasive.

I crept in over beside Carol and started hanging some laundry that the other women were working on. As I turned around to face Rick and Lori, I caught Daryl's eyes glancing over at me. He suddenly turned on a scowl and went back to cleaning off his arrows from that stupid bow; he hadn't put it down since he came back to the camp, and for some reason, I felt like he slept with it in his arms.

"You see anybody else steppin' up to save your brother's cracker ass?" T Dog said and I sputtered, not able to contain a laugh. I wasn't sure if the statement was meant to be funny, but I sure as hell needed a good laugh.

"You got somethin' to say, ya fake blondie bitch? Ain't nothin' funny about my brother being chained to some goddamned roof!" Daryl yelled, and I flinched, almost feeling the burn of tears in my eyes. I had never been talked to with such mean intent.

Rick noticed me there, and turned around to face me.

"Hey, don't worry about it," He said to me during the awkward silence that followed Daryl's outburst. Rick continued, "Everyone, this is Heather...?"

"McBride," I said, clearing my throat to rid myself of the building sob. Rick looked at me with solemn blue eyes, making me feel strangely comforted. He put his hand on my shoulder and went on,

"Heather McBride, and she's another survivor that Glenn found in the city. So, her and I are the new comers; be nice to us," and he laughed, halfheartedly, seeing that Lori's unforgiving stare hadn't softened in the least.

There were smiles all around, except from Daryl.

"This is Dale," Glenn pointed to an older gentleman, with a white beard, kind eyes, and a cheery smile. He waved to me.

"Amy," he pointed to the other blonde who stood with Andrea.

"And this is Rick's son, Carl, and that there's Carol's daughter Sophia. You haven't met Jim or Ed yet, but they're around somewhere, I'm sure you'll see them today."

"Hi Carl and Sophia!" I said with a wave and a smile, wanting to be sure I came off as approachable to the children. The fact that there were two children alive and well with them, along with Morales' kids made me so happy; the innocence of a child was one of the most magical things to me. I went on, "I want to come with you," I said, and winced as Daryl got to his feet.

"Don't think so, kid. Last thing we need is some barbie bimbo making us wait on her cuz' she chipped a nail or broke one'a 'er heels," He was proud of himself for that, I could tell.

"Alright. Enough," I spun around, feeling a surge of anger. "You don't know me. You don't know nothin' about me, nothing about where I come from, and you sure don't have any idea what I'm capable of. I've seen shit these last few month, shit that's made me mean and hard. You best remember that when you get up the nerve to call me Barbie again. Asshole." I jammed a finger on Daryl's sternum, seeing him grimace, and stormed off towards the RV, leaving him dumbfounded, and for once, without some smart ass comment.

"Heather, wait up," Amy followed me and stopped me outside of the camper.

"It was cool you could stand up to him. No one has since him and Merle joined up with us," she brushed a stray strand of white-blonde hair behind her ear. I could tell she wasn't done, so I waited for the next statement, raising my eyebrows.

As expected, it came.

"You're similar to my size, and I have some extra clothes if you want to use them. Just a thought. I think you should stay with us today, get accustomed to camp. I can show you around, whatever you need. We even have a shower!" Amy smiled, and I couldn't help but smile along.

"A shower would be nice," she admitted. "Thanks, Amy."

"No problem. Let me just grab you some clothes," and she hopped up the stairs into the RV.

"I would take anything to the disgusting things I have on now," and it was true; grime coated my clothes, my mother's blood still pronounced in a now dark brown stain across my chest. My once faded blue jeans were now stained with blood and dirt, turning them a sickly brown hue. I had been too afraid to shower or change in any of the places that I hid; I could have, most likely. Fear was a new thing for me. I had always been outgoing.

As Amy came back outside, I saw Rick separate from the group, heading over to where I stood.

"I'm sorry 'bout him," He said.

"Don't have anything to be sorry about, Rick. I'm fine. He just lost his brother," I gave him the nicest smile I could muster.

"Don't say that, you don't know if Merle's dead,"

Brief pause,

"Gotta say one thang; when you get fired up, your southern accent comes out. I was wondering if you were even from around here, but when I heard you take off on Dixon, I heard the south come out."

"Shut up," I said, chuckling, knowing he was right. My mother had always said, "You got the sass of the south in you when you get mad." I faltered momentarily, but returned when I realized that my mother would want me to find something to smile about, especially now.

"Rick could I ask you a dumb favor?" I said, deep in thought.

"Yeah, sure," Rick said, peering around, and trying not to seem shady.

"My car. The car that kept me safe. It's blocking the alley from the back side into the department store. Bring it back for me? I promise it's worth it, keys in the console, I siphoned gas from the highway into Atlanta, so it's got a full tank of gas, spare crow bars and blankets that I found in an abandoned shelter. It's a white Prius... And it's got my wallet; the only thing I have left. There's pictures of …people I lost," I mumbled the last part, fearing that my emotions would hear me speaking of them and threaten to become visible.

"That's a lot to ask," He rubbed his chin.

"I know. I'll repay you any way you want!" I sighed, hoping this would do the trick.

"I'll try," Rick said, holding up his index finger, "TRY."

"Thank you so much! Be safe out there," I said, hugging him quickly.

"See ya later," Rick said, and headed off towards the big white truck that had gotten them safely back to camp. Daryl obnoxiously hit the horn, yelling "Come on, let's go!" He jumped from the back of the truck and look around, the cruel expression voided from his face momentarily. He spotted me, and didn't frown, or scowl, and I saw how soft his face was; almost youthful, and very attractive.

I thought about what he would look like without his grungy clothes, cleaned off.

"_Really, Heather. Really?"_ Those thoughts again. I shook my head, trying to rid the mental image of Daryl naked; tight muscles, tan, smooth skin…_sweet baby Jesus._

"You alright?" Amy came back outside, just as the guys were pulling away from camp. She handed me a pile of clean clothes; a white tube top with knee length ripped, light denim shorts. Laid on top was a little lime green thong.

"I'm fine," I smiled, and held up the underwear.

Amy laughed again; "I couldn't afford to be too picky. Follow me," And I followed her over to a tarp strung up around a clump of trees on the edge of the camp.

"Okay, so you pull this string, and it'll lift the black tarp up, which is full of rain water. It'll dump down on ya. Here's my shampoo and a bar of soap. There's a towel under the clothes too," Amy said as she handed me the pile of clothing.

"Thank you, Amy." I said again, heart flooding with gratitude. No one besides Rick and Carol had been this kind to me since I arrived.

I stepped behind the tarp, and began to peel off the grimy clothes. Once I was free, the cool breeze brought up by the water in the quarry hit my skin and gave me goose bumps. I pulled on the string, preparing for the rain water to hit me, and it did with force, and I cried out from the cold. I realized didn't mind after a minute because of how good the clean water felt on my skin. Once my hair and body was wet, I lathered shampoo in, and scrubbed down with the soap. I stood for a moment, breathing in the smell of the shampoo mixed with the pine trees that surrounded me, and smiled, pulling the string again to rinse off.

I dabbed at my skin with the towel, and pulled on the clean clothes. After getting dressed, I took the now damp towel, and wrapped it turban style around my head to dry my hair.

Coming back to the camp, I saw Dale and whom I suspected was Jim working on the RV, managing to keep conversation cheery.

All of a sudden, Jim stood up, grabbing a shovel and he walked, determined towards a hill on the outskirts of the camp. He was talking to himself, muttering, and smacking his own forehead, seemingly frustrated.

"Is he okay?" I asked Dale.

"Dunno," He said, grabbing his binoculars and heading up the ladder on the RV to keep an eye out.

I walked back with the women, just as Andrea and Amy were coming up from the quarry with two lines full of fish.

"Whoa! Look at all the fish, Mom!" Carl said, poking at one of the limp creatures.

"That looks amazing," I joined the group, and Carl smiled at me.

Dale wandered over and, with a worried expression, said, "I don't want to alarm anyone, but..it's Jim. He's up on that hill digging. Said he had some dream," Dale pointed up, and everyone just saw the end of a shovel rhythmically tossing dirt.

Shane sighed, and got to his feet, and he started to walk towards Jim.

"I'll watch the kids while you go," I offered to the rest of the group, and Carl and Sophia came close to me as they made a little circle.

Carol, Lori, and the rest of the group headed off, following Shane to talk to Jim and see what was wrong.

After a few moments in silence, Sophia said shyly,

"What did you do before the change, Heather?"

"I was a model, and I wanted to be in movies," I said, ashamed that my previous life had been so boring.

"I hope I'm as pretty as you when I grow up." Sophia said, blushing slightly.

"I went to school to work with people, and read their feelings. I was planning on working with kids like you! Money just got in the way like it always does, and that job wasn't enough. But Sophia...let me tell you that you're gorgeous the way you are. Don't try to be anyone but you," I said, ruffling Sophia's hair gently.

"I agree," Carl said and the two of them giggled.

"Let's go to the RV, and wait for the others to come down. We'll play cards or something," I suggested, wanting to get the kids out of the hot, late afternoon sun.

"Okay!" they both said, happy to be going inside for a while.

"So, we've got…Connect 4, and Sorry," I found the vintage board games in a small space under the couch cushions.

"Can't we just sit? I can braid your hair, and Carl can massage your feet," Sophia said.

"Hey, count me out!" the little boy laughed, and jumped on the couch, putting his arms behind his head and pretending to fall asleep. His smile faded quickly, and I could tell he was thinking about his dad.

"He'll be fine. He's a strong guy, and really smart. He got us out last time," I tried to reassure him as I motioned for him to move his legs. I sat down next to him, and Sophia went to leave the camper.

"Where you going?" I asked.

"Just gonna get a few daisies. I want to put them in your hair!" Sophia said, pointing to a clump of pale pink wild flowers growing right outside the camper.

"No where else, you come right back in, ya hear?" I said sternly, and Sophia nodded fervently.

She returned in mere seconds with a clump of the pretty flowers clutched in her tiny hand.

She sat down on the couch next to me, and beckoned me to sit on the floor in front of her so she could reach my hair; I obeyed of course, though my aching body resisted. I tucked my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around myself, closing my eyes.

"Hey Sophia?" I asked.

"Yeah?" Sophia responded,

"How do you manage to stay so happy?" I asked.

"I think about pretty things. Like these flowers, and all of those fish Andrea and Amy caught. And my momma, Lori, you and Amy. Pretty people," She began to run her fingers through my still slightly damp hair and pulled it over to one side, beginning to braid it. After using her own hair tie to secure the braid, she began placing the flowers in strategically, and they stayed perfectly because of the coarseness of my curly hair.

"Pretty things, huh? That's a good tip," I said, tearing up slightly. Sophia's innocent mind brought my own to complete peace, and I sighed contentedly as Sophia put the finishing touches on my hair. I stood and looked in the mirror and gasped when I realized that the platinum blonde my hair had been when the outbreak hit was no more. I guess the color had faded with poor hygiene, malnutrition and my roots grew in light brown, the color it had been before I modeled..

"Your turn!" I said to Sophia and traded spots with her. I ran my fingers through Sophia's smooth bob cut, and twisted some of the hair back, repinning it professionally with the bobby pin Sophia had and one of the remaining daisies. "There ya go," I said to Sophia.

Carl dozed off on the couch, and I glanced out the window of the RV when I heard voices. The rest of the group was on their way down, Jim bound in some way by Shane. Just in time, the sun had begun to set.

"Time to get dinner started, I reckon," I said, and woke Carl. The three of us walked over to where the rest of the group gathered, and began to gut and clean the fish.

"They should be back by now," I overheard Lori whispering to Jacqui, who nodded in silent agreement.

"They're fine. I know they are. I can feel it," I said, hoping I hadn't acted too nosy.

Lori just smiled and bit at her cheek, making her lips purse into a sour expression.

The fish had been cleaned and fried up over the newly started camp fire, and everybody sat, feeling the euphoria of having a full belly. It was quiet, besides Dale telling everyone about William Faulkner's theory of enjoying the time we are given…

Amy rose, and Andrea said quickly, "Where are you going?"

"To pee! Try to be discreet around here," and everyone chuckled, as she walked off to the RV.

"Thank you all…for being kind to me; Accepting me," I said boldly after listening to the fire crackle for a moment. Maybe it was the beer making me sentimental.

"We need each other now more than ever," Andrea said, and before anyone could say any more, there was a blood-curdling scream, and everyone turned to see Amy being bitten on the arm by a walker.

"Oh fuck," I said, under my breath, but went on louder, "keep Carl and Sophia behind you!" I ordered at Lori, and Shane was the first to his gun.

"Everyone down!" he yelled, and began firing at the walkers, now growing in numbers.

"Give me a gun!" I yelled, and caught the semi automatic that Shane tossed to me. I began to shoot at the walking corpses, and followed Andrea who was now running towards Amy. As we ran, I heard an arrow whiz by me, taking out a walker that I hadn't even seen to my left. I turned around to see Daryl, Rick, T Dog and Glenn, all back and unloading ammo on the remaining zombies.

I finally reached Amy's side and fell to my knees, keeping a protective eye out for Andrea, who was completely oblivious to anything but her sister, and understandably so. Amy's neck had been torn into, and the blood pulsed from her wounds with every breath she took.

Andrea's reaction was the most heartbreaking and gut wrenching thing I had ever seen; the all too familiar feeling when everything that you live for is snatched away in an instant.

Amy took her last breath, and Andrea lost her mind. There was the unbearable silence as the last of the walkers were killed, and all that could be heard was Andrea's guttural sobs, "Amy, Amy…"

Carl and Sophia began to cry harder than they were before, squealing, and little voices breaking from the strain. I couldn't handle any more. I stumbled to my feet and ran; away from the sobbing. To think of _pretty things._ I tripped and fell, skidding my knees on the forest floor. As I cried, I felt her braid begin to loosen and a wilted daisy fell from my head to the ground before me.

"You best come back, Barbie. It sure as hell ain't safe out here, and you know it," A gruff voice came from behind me and I jumped.

"Fuck off," I gasped, and continued to cry.

"Come on!" Daryl's now clearly identifiable voice was right behind me, and I felt his strong hand grab my upper arm.

"Let go!" I cried.

"No. I'm not lettin' ya here. Come on," He yanked me to my feet and tossed me over his shoulder like I was a rag doll.

"Is this necessary?!" I grumbled, as I pounded a fist into Daryl's back.

"Apparently, since you don't listen to no one," He said, unwavering.

I decided it was best to keep quiet. He wanted to get a rise out of me.

He set me down once they had arrived back at camp. The fire had begun to die, sending a thick gray smoke into the sky. There was nothing but total shock waving through the remaining members of the group, and the silence was almost worse to me than the screams during the attack.

I saw Rick holding his family tight, Carl, Lori and him all unscathed physically.

"Go to bed. We'll clean this up tomorrow, and bury the dead," He said as he wiped his nose and blinked rapidly to ward off the tears.

"I'll stay out here," I said to Carol and Lori, "Go in the RV with the kids, please," I begged, and the two women listened, carrying their crying children inside.

Andrea was still next to her sister, handling a shiny black gun for all to see.

"You ain't stayin out here," Daryl said, and spit loudly on the ground. He grabbed me again and carried me to a black tent, slightly separated from the others.

"Here, git in there. I'll stay out here and keep watch. Go on," He said, shooing me inside the tent.

I didn't say a word, but was thankful for someone watching out for me. I climbed weakly into the tent and gagged, smelling the metallic odor of blood on my clothing in the newly closed quarters. I removed the now crimson shirt I wore and peeled off the shorts, then collapsed on the lone sleeping bag that laid unkempt in the middle of the tent floor. It smelled strongly of man; the outdoors, wood smoke, and just a hint of body odor. It was strangely comforting, and I buried my nose in the flannel. I began to sob again, and it increased to the point where Daryl hit the side of the tent.

"Keep it down, damn it," He growled.

The crying continued. I heard the tent flap zip open noisily, and I buried my face deeper in the flimsy pillow.

"Christ, why didn't ya say you was changing!" he said, a little too loud.

"Come in here, please," I said, my voice muffled into the sleeping bag.

**Daryl's POV:**

_What should I do? Do I say no?_

I realized how awkwardly tight my pants had gotten, and I could safely say that this was the most shameful boner of my entire life. _Sobbing girl takes her clothes off and I gets stiff as road kill._

"Fuck," I whispered, and climbed into the tent, taking one of my shirts and draping it over Heather.

"I'm sorry, the blood..Amy," she stuttered,

"'s fine, just let me know next time so I don't walk in on ya,"

_Next time? What next time?_

**Narrative POV:**

Daryl's thoughts were incredibly conflicted, and he sat next to Heather, motionless, as sobs racked her frail looking body.

"Can you hold me?" She asked timidly, once the sobs slowed.

"Uh..I – I don't think…no." Daryl said, moving his hand awkwardly as if to comfort her. He knew nothing in the comforting department; the only comfort he knew was passin' out drunk after Mama made him kneel on grits for any damn thing she deemed fit.

He felt her hand search blindly, and rested peacefully when she found Daryl's hand and grasped it.

He wanted to pull away, but he let her there; at least it stopped the cryin'.


End file.
